In Colourful Two's and Three's
by NovaLynne
Summary: A different view from the magical world. Set in the Marauders time, although the venture to Hogwarts is later in the story. I am co writing this w my friend.


Veronica stood in her moonlit driveway and breathed in deeply. She slid her headphones over her ears and breathed in again. She suddenly took off running, she ran down the road and towards the highway. She closed her eyes and ran straight in the middle of the street. It was 1:30 in the morning, so there was no one of the road. And she lived in a fairly rural town, somewhat close the centre of town although.

She let her music carry her, because she knew if she stopped, she'd be gasping for air. She was listening to "Running" by No Doubt. It was her thinking-while-running song. She opened her eyes and gazed up at the stars, with her head slightly tilted up. Just as the song was finishing up, she was entering town. Minus the few buildings that were lit, the town seemed to be quite peacefully sleeping.

Veronica turned her eyes to the grocery store. _Water...I need water..._She pushed open the doors, walking briskly, so she didn't suddenly stop herself and have an attack. The aisles blurred and she blinked, shaking her head, taking in a deep breath. She wandered over toward the refrigerated section.

Veronica had her eyes locked on the water bottles, when suddenly she was pushed back. She felt something pressing on her. Looking around, not until now realizing that there was a boy pinning her, and well..._kissing_ her. This was all a shock.

For one, she hadn't bothered putting on any make up and she was kind of sweaty. She didn't at all feel pretty. But you know, some guys, I suppose, like that kind of thing, Veronica thought. She gave in a little, kissing him back. Wondering; what was going on, why was she letting a total stranger kiss her? Thinking; something was happening since she felt a little dizzy.

But then, she felt it. Oh, did she feel it. Breaking free and pushing the guy away, she ran toward the end of the aisle where the plastic garbage bins were before sticking her face in one and regurgitating in it. She could hear footsteps nearing her crouching figure.

_Great, I'll always be the "girl that puked after making out" to him…_Veronica thought. "Dexter," she heard him say. She could feel his breath and saw a flash of white out of the corner of her eye.

Veronica moaned and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She sat down on the floor and smiled weakly. "Sorry, I have exercise induced asthma." she took a couple deep breaths. "I'm Veronica. Most people call me Nica"

Dexter stood there with his hand outstretched as he let the business card flutter to her lap. Then he walked away. Just like that.

Veronica blinked, staring at the card, and then up at the guy's shrinking figure. She looked back down at the car. " Dexter..." she whispered. After a few minutes, she got up, grabbed a water bottle, telling the clerk "clean up in aisle 7". She walked out of the store and stopped. "Well, that was the weirdest thing ever," she said before taking a drink and then running off again back to her house, music playing.

Veronica sighed, sitting on her roof, back to the wall of her house. She heard a faint click as her bedroom was lit up green and Debbie Harry's voice rang out "Call me, my love..." Veronica smiled, closing her eyes. She felt her hair being lifted by the cool, autumn breeze. The golden light from the sunrise caught the natural copper that was woven throughout her hair. She opened her eyes and gazed at the goldenrod sun that gazed back at her eyes. Eyes like a winter pond, frozen over. With a tint of spring green creeping forward. For all the time she was outside, her skin never tanned. It remained a pinkish milky colour.

Over all, she seemed like a frail thing. Not that she was horrible skinny, but it seemed if you touched her, she might fall and break. She, however, wasn't. She was rather strong, and she did work out – when she had the time. She was always so busy; she never seemed to have time to stop and rest, let alone sleep, which probably contributed to her fragile appearance.

She loved to read, when she had the time to, she'd stay up all night reading. Having a vivid imagination; always dreaming about fantasy and having a charmed life. She longed for everything that happened to have happened for a great cause, like in books. But life, well, life isn't a book, it isn't a movie either. And the horrible things that happen in life aren't just made to make you hold more interest. And there hardly ever is a happy ending. Sometimes there's a cliffhanger to someone's death, sometimes it's a peaceful resolve. But mostly, death in reality is frank and almost always never containing a proper reasoning. In Veronica's eyes; life sucked.

Rory woke up that next morning in a cold sweat, sitting up quickly, and breathing heavily. She had just had this terrible dream about a beanstalk and an ogre and a dashingly hansom prince, and her mom getting remarried again. But wait. That last part wasn't a dream. Her mother had called the night before to tell the news of her new engagement, her fifth new engagement. She sighed, leaning back into the pillows of her king size bed, closing her eyes again. The sun was rising and coming through her floor to ceiling windows. She couldn't do much about it now. But, that didn't stop her from laying there for the next ten minutes.

She sighed, rolling over, finally getting out of bed. It's hard to describe it, so I'm just going to go ahead and say it. Rory was rich, very rich. She had to admit, her mother's constant trail of husbands had its benefits. They had acquired a small, but rather large, fortune over the years, and when she had moved out, Rory had received half of it. Her apartment was magnificent. She lived alone in the personally-designed-for-her apartment. Her master bedroom was pink. It had pink floor-to-ceiling curtains draped around her floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. Her bedspread was pink, and her accessories were pink. Or white. The room was beautiful, and almost sickening. Rory slowly made her way over to her vanity, where she slipped on a pink silk robe, and sat down on a low stool, and stared into the mirror. "I... wish..." she whispered quietly, sighing again, stroking her straight brown hair.

Donavon, wearing his emerald and cream letterman's jacket, jogged down the street in the fresh morning mist. His lips parted in a smile as he stepped onto a cleanly cut grass lawn. Looking up to the black railed fire escape, he reached for the latter and climbed upward. He climbed to the fourth window off the ground and leaned over so he could be in clear view. He knocked on the glass, smiling, waiting.

Rory stood up slowly, and hugged herself tightly. She picked up her brush, bringing it through her hair only two or three times, replaced it, and headed over to her windows. She opened the pink curtains, letting the sun shine in.

Donavon's smile increased. He looked at the beautiful face through the window with his bright blue eyes. "Morning!" he chirped. He absent mindedly rubbed his arms and shivered. It was cold outside what with it being late fall. There were no more leaves on the trees. There was all lying askew on the wet earth. No more brilliant fall colours, forever now a damp brown hue. Pine needles laying in the gutters, pushed aside by the traffic of the streets. No more crisp air and burning pumpkins. Forever the cold smell of early winter and gray skies and bitter winds to usher it all in. Forever. Forever until spring.

"Morning," she said, opening the large windows to the point where he could climb in if he wanted to. They were practically like doors. "You look cute this morning." she said softly leaning out the window slightly.

Donavon smiled as he cheeks pinkened not only of the comment, but also of the cold. "Well...I try. But it's just so god damn hard when I'm standing next to someone so beautiful as yourself." he made a slight bow, fumbling for something behind his back. "For you, milady," he said, getting down on one knee and presenting her with a bouquet of cookies. Cookies in the shapes of roses to be exact. And in multiple shades of pink. "I hope you like it," he smiled nervously.

"Have I ever mentioned how adorably sweet you are?" she asked, laughing lightly, taking the bouquet, and backing up slightly. "Come in! Get out of the cold!" she said as she absent mindedly grabbed a chunk of hair from the side of her head; she started pulling and twisting it.

Donavon slid through her window and stepped into her rosy cocoon. He breathed in deeply. "Oh, sweet Rory Girl. I love how girly your room is." he sat down on a bench covered with a fluffy pink cushion. "So...This morning when I was buying those - I had to pick them up, they wouldn't deliver, but then I don't really care, it gives me reason to see you - " he slowed just enough to take a breath in and continue, " - And the lady at the counter was very kind to me, then when she looked closer at my jacket, she gave me the craziest look!" Donavon chuckled. "I guess she thought I was in football or basketball or whatever."

Rory smiled, giggling ever so slightly. "I really can't imagine you as a football player." She placed her bouquet on her vanity. "And I love how these match my girly room perfectly." She slid in next to him on the bench. "Now, what exactly is the occasion? Bringing me flower cookie things just because you love me, or because you need me to do something?"

Donavon turned to her with serious eyes. He took her hands in his and opened his mouth. "Rory...Darling...You see..." he looked down to the pink rub beneath them. "I need you to use your amazing ninja skills to assassin that one tall tenor in Jazz Choir. I need that solo!"

Rory bit her lip slightly, also staring at the rug. "I think..." she said in a low voice, "I might just be able to handle that." she paused, before laughing, "Maybe." she paused again, "But, seriously, I doubt you would need my help. I'm sure you'll get it, you are amazing, after all." she turned slightly, and placed her head on his shoulder, her hand still enveloped by his.

"Oh?" Donavon shifted his weight to cover his sudden shiver that Rory sent through him. "Well," he cleared his throat. "Still..." After a few seconds of silence, he continued. "I just felt like surprising you, brightening your day. You know, everyone could use a cookie bouquet every once in a while."

"Is that some type of hint? Are you feeling neglected? You need a cookie-bouquet too?" she asked in a joking manner, taking her head of his should, and turning to him.

"Wha'...? Oh, no." he smiled. "I like brownies," he touched her cheek gingerly, then, as if only now realizing he'd touched her, he drew his hand back quickly. "So...How are voice lessons?"

"Oh, lovely, as always. I was working on this song last night... oh, it was gorgeous. I was gorgeous. Perfect. I just hope I can replicate it at that Sound of Music audition."

"I bet you'll do amazing. You're a very talented singer."

"Thanks," she whispered, blushing, "But I am nothing compared to you, and don't you dare disagree." she stood up sharply, heading for her walk-in closet. "Guess what?" she called from deep within the endless cavern.

"What?"

"My mom's engaged! Again. The wedding's really soon, in like six weeks. You wanna go?"

"Oh wow..." he paused, looking away. "Sure." Donavon looked back at Rory and contorted his face into a look of concern. "How are you dealing?" he asked softly.

She sighed from inside the closet, grabbing a just below the knee length, pale pink, pleated skirt, and a white, lacey camisole. She turned a corner in her closet, looking for shoes. "He's nice, I guess. Kinda. I mean, if he is the one I'm thinking of. Then I might have met him once. He's rich, as always, kind of older, he seems kind... if I'm thinking of the right person." she slowly released her robe, letting it drop to the floor, and slipped on her new outfit. She grabbed a pair of white flats, and a jean jacket before leaving the closet.

Donavon nodded. "Hmm...How long do you think he'll last?" he asked. He sat, waiting, studying the intricate swirly design on Rory's pink curtains.

Rory sighed again deeply, "I dunno..." she crossed the room towards her vanity, slipping on the jacket as she did so. "Think we could grab some Starbucks quickly?" she slipped on her shoes hoping on one foot so she wouldn't have to stop walking. She reached her vanity, and quickly applying some basic make-up, and running her brush through her hair again. She sighed one more time, before turning to Donavon.

Donavon stood, smiling. He held out his hand to her, "Yes, but of course, milady. Anything for thee fair maiden." He bowed deeply. "You do know that I am paying. I think I shall make this Treat Rory Day. A day devoted to all things pink and fuzzy, sweet things, and of course, you," he smiled. "Now, let's go before I sound even cornier," he chuckled.


End file.
